


Fingernails and cold skin

by eyesoflauramars (Andromede)



Series: The forbidden 'verse [2]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Jossverse
Genre: Angst, Biting, Blood, F/M, Season 2, Sex, The forbidden series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-28
Updated: 2012-12-28
Packaged: 2017-11-22 16:46:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/612004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Andromede/pseuds/eyesoflauramars
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They know it's wrong, but they can't help themselves.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fingernails and cold skin

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written for velvetwhip's 'I feel selfish ficathon' on LJ.
> 
> sequel to 'Little deaths'
> 
> Not beta'd

 

He held Buffy in his arms; the Slayer’s body moved seductively against his along to the slow rhythm of the music.

 

A few weeks ago Angel would have enjoyed this.

 

But now, as was often the case ever since that first night he came to her bedroom, all he could think about was Willow and how long he would have to wait until it was her body he held.

 

The body that at this moment was in the arms of that idiot Xander Harris, for whom Willow had such a strong, unfathomable affection for.

 

Angel watched them dancing across the floor. Something like envy rippled through him seeing the serene smile playing on Willow’s lips as her head rested on Xander’s shoulder. Angel could never make her smile like that; he could make her face contort in a look of agonising ecstacy, but there was no way Willow would ever feel as peaceful and content while with Angel.

 

Unlike Xander, Angel didn’t hold Willow’s heart, and he didn’t fool himself into believing he ever would. But he did have a piece of Willow no one else could touch and he didn’t want to lose it.

 

Well, he could rest easily knowing he wouldn’t be losing Willow to Xander anytime soon, if the wistful glances the boy kept casting Buffy’s way were any indication, he still hadn’t given up his obsession with the Slayer, not to mention that he was drenched in the scent of the cheerleader Cordelia.

 

It seemed that Xander wanted everyone but Willow.

 

_Fool,_ Angel thought with disdain. Though he supposed Xander’s doltishness worked in his favour; if Xander did one day suddenly decide he wanted Willow the girl would likely run to him in an instant, and then she would be tainted by his touch. Angel would lose her.

 

He hated the thought of that.

 

The soft brush of lips on his neck pulled him from unpleasant thoughts, his eyes automatically closing as he lost himself in the sensation of Buffy’s hot mouth on his cold skin. He wrapped his arms tighter around her waist and pulled her hard up against him, imagining it was another girl in his arms.

 

~*~*~*~

 

Willow opened her eyes and did the thing she had been trying desperately to keep from doing all night, she looked at Angel. She nearly gasped when she saw the way he was holding Buffy in his arms, with Buffy kissing his neck – something he appeared to enjoy very much. Willow was hit by a surprisingly powerful tidal wave of jealously and anger; how dare Angel betray her like that?

 

Only, wait, Willow wasn’t the one being betrayed here. Buffy was. She was being betrayed by the man she loved and her best friend; if anyone had the right to be angry, it was Buffy.

 

Guilt twisted Willow’s gut for what she had done, even as she fantasized about what would happen later in her bed.

 

She shivered in anticipation.

 

As if sensing her eyes on him, Angel opened his and stared right at her; Willow couldn’t see the way his pupils were dilated with lust from the distance between them, but she could imagine it, she’d seen them that way often enough as he hovered above her. Angel’s lip curved up slowly in a seductive smile that made Willow’s heart race. He never took his eyes off of her as he lowered his head and began kissing Buffy’s bare shoulder.

 

Willow’s fingers curled in the back of Xander’s shirt as she imagined the way Angel’s lips felt on her skin. She fought not to moan.

 

“Ouch, Will,” Xander’s voice cried, snapping her from her reverie.

 

She blinked and lifted her head up at Xander. “Huh? What?”

“Nails.”

 

She blinked, not understanding. “What . . .  nails?”

 

“Fingernails,” Xander expanded, “digging not so pleasantly into places.”

 

Willow’s brow creased, then smoothed as she realised what he meant. “Oh!” she exclaimed, releasing her hold. “Sorry.”

 

Xander looked at her quizzically. “You okay?”

 

“Fine.” Willow answered automatically. She looked back at Angel.  He was still watching her as his fingers trailed up and down Buffy’s bare back.

 

Willow’s throat was dry, and her breath was coming in shallow pants. She was beginning to feel lightheaded. “Actually,” she said taking a step back and looking back up at Xander. “I, uh, really have to pee. I’ll be back in a minute.” With that she spun around and took off.

 

Angel tensed when he saw Willow fleeing from the dancefloor. He straitened, lips leaving Buffy, eyes following Willow as she ran toward the bathroom; his feet itched to follow her.

 

“Angel?” Buffy’s confused voice broke in, annoying him. His jaw tensing Angel looked down at the Slayer’s round questioning eyes. “Is something wrong?”

 

He managed a small twitch of his lips. “No, of course not,” he touched her cheek in assurance. “I just need to go and take care of something. I’ll be right back.” He dropped a small kiss on her head and walked away.

 

Buffy stared after him pouting, her brow pinched. And then Xander sidled up to her and they started dancing.

 

                                   

~*~*~*~

 

Willow shakily twisted the tap of the bathroom faucet, and cupped her hands under the cold stream of water; she watched as the water welled in her hands only to slip through her fingers and spiral down the drain. She felt like the same thing was happening to her, like she was slipping away from herself. She could barely hold on to the person she used to be before all of this started with Angel.

 

Someone else had taken over her body, A despicable wretch, a slut that screwed her best friend’s boyfriend and lied to everyone she cared about, a person who was not Willow.

 

She was losing herself as the new persona warred with her old one for control; soon this duality inside her would tear her apart.

 

That is, unless she did something about it.

 

She had to do the thing she told herself every night she would do, but never did; she had to lock Angel out. It was the only way to save herself.

 

“I have to.” She whispered to herself with grim determination, her eyes clenched shut tightly. When Willow opened her eyes, for the first time in weeks she was met with a face she recognised, her Resolve Face. She smiled at her reflection, before leaning over and splashing a handful of cold water on her face; the brisk water hitting her skin felt invigorating, she felt like it was waking her up.

 

She padded herself dry with a paper towel, then looked back at the mirror and nodded at her reflection. She tossed the balled up paper towel in the trash and whirled around out of the bathroom.

 

The door hadn’t even closed behind her before she felt a pair of strong arms snake around her waist. A gasp caught in her throat as fingertips grazed her neck as her hair was brushed aside. Cool lips followed, and a tongue lapping at her pulse point making her shiver. Her eyes closed and her head lolled back as her body melted against the hard frame behind her.

 

A small moan escaped her lips.

 

_Oh, god._

 

Her head was spinning already and she could barely catch her breath. Already her resolve was being broken.

 

“A-angel,” she rasped, her voice barely audible. “Wh-what’re you doing?”

 

He answered by nibbling her earlobe.

 

She screwed her eyes shut tight, and fought against the sensation, trying to hold onto her willpower.

 

“B- but we can’t.” She stammered. “Not here, Buffy . . . ”

 

Angel’s hand slid up her skirt.

 

“But someone might see,” She argued meekly.

 

Angel spun her around and brought his mouth down on hers with bruising force.

 

Willow whimpered as they crashed through the door of the girl’s bathroom. Angel pinned Willow against it, hoisting up her legs and putting them around his waist, and ground his groin against hers.

 

Willow cried out, clutching Angel’s shoulders.

 

Angel deftly popped open the top few buttons of Willow’s sweater with one hand, while the other slid up her thigh. His tongue trailed down her neck and chest, he teased Willow’s breast through the cotton fabric of her bra.

 

Willow’s slender fingers worked the buttons of Angel’s shirt, desperate to feel his flesh. She slid her hands over his broad chest, his skin cold beneath her palms. She tugged one of his pebbled nipples with her fingernail.

 

A low growl rumbled from Angel’s chest, Willow could feel the vibration under her hands. He lifted his head and kissed her mouth deeply. He used both hands to rip Willow’s panties from her.

 

Willow let out a gasp of surprise at the action; she worried briefly about having to go through the rest of the night without underwear. But all thoughts were pushed out of her mind as Angel’s finger pushed into her; he took her clit between his thumb and forefinger and pinched it. Willow moaned and her head knocked back against the door with a bang.

 

Angel was struggling one-handed with his fly, desperate to release his raging erection. Impatient, Willow reached down between them to help out. Angel let out a relieved grunt when he felt air brush against his tip; he took himself in his hand and thrust up hard and deep inside of Willow.

 

Willow bit down on Angel’s bottom lip, taken by surprise; A spicy copper taste exploded in her tongue. Angel groaned in pleasure, pounding into her so hard the door began to rattle. Willow wrapped her arms around his shoulder, holding on tight. She was afraid they were might break it down, but at the moment she couldn’t really seem to care.

 

The ball of tension in her belly was building rapidly as Angel’s hard cock rubbed roughly against her clit. She felt his lips at her neck; his mouth opened and bit down gently with dull human teeth, pulling her delicate skin between them.

 

“Oh, god Angel!” Willow cried as she came, hoping that the din of the music blasting outside would cover the sound.

 

The rhythm of Angel’s hips slowed, as he took his time finding his own release.

 

As the intensity of her orgasm ebbed, Willow’s eyes fluttered open, she gasped at the sight before her. In the mirror looking back at her was a girl, her legs parted as she hovered in the air by an unseen force, her breast partly exposed, a thin line of blood trickled down the corner of her mouth and she had look of pure, feral passion in her eyes.

 

She looked wild, dangerous, and strangely somehow . . . beautiful.

 

Willow wondered where this strange creature had come from; who could she be? Because certainly, the girl looking back at her couldn’t be Willow Rosenberg,

 

Could it?

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Feedback is greatly appreciated!


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